Bloodmagic (Blood Destiny 2)

by Helen Harper

  We were led through a dark passageway to a room at the back. There was a rickety old wooden table and two dirty plastic chairs that might have once been white. I sat myself down on one and crossed my legs, trying to appear relaxed and as if I regularly went shopping for deadly weapons in dodgy back street stores run by trolls. I hoped there weren’t any bridges nearby.

  Solus murmured something to the shopkeeper who went scurrying off.

  As soon as he left, I opened my mouth to speak. “A troll? You’ve taken me to a shop run by a troll?”

  “What’s your point, dragonlette?”

  “They can’t be trusted! John always said…”

  Solus put his finger to my mouth, again telling me to be quiet. “Are there any other nearby Otherworld weapons shops you’d rather visit? Perhaps we could go back to Alcazon and ask the Lord Alpha for a recommendation.” I scowled at him. Solus continued. “And stop your prattling and complaining. Trolls have excellent hearing. Offend this one and you are out of options.”

  I sighed deeply to illustrate my mistrust but kept my mouth shut. I tried to remind myself that I should be grateful to the Fae for all his help; after all, he’d only promised to keep Mrs Alcoon safe in return for knowing my secret about being a Draco Wyr. He had no reason to continue to helping me out. Before I could wonder too hard about the real reasons for Solus’ charity, the little troll came bustling back in holding a tray. He set it down on top of the table, glaring malevolently at me as he did so. Okay, I guess he had heard my comments about trolls then.

  Solus looked over at me and raised his eyebrows. Shrugging, I reached over to the tray. There were several different dirks and daggers. I picked one up and was immediately impressed at its balance and weight. I offered it over to Solus who recoiled away from me.

  “Mackenzie…” His voice was strained. I looked back down at the dagger and realised that it was made of iron. Oops.

  “Sorry,” I murmured, placing it gently back onto the tray.

  I reminded myself that I was going to see some mages. Whether my weapons were made of iron or steel or something else wouldn’t really make a whole lot of difference. The memory of seeing Corrigan and his cronies in the restaurant was still very fresh in my mind, however, so I picked up the nearest silver dirk instead and rolled it around in my hands. It felt good. There was a matching one so I grabbed hold of that also and stood up, feeling the weight of both in my hands. I tried a few thrusts into the air, being careful to avoid aiming anywhere near the shopkeeper who was leaning against the wall and watching me with narrowed eyes. I touched the edge of one of them with my fingertip and was pleased to note a bead of blood appear on my skin. Remembering what trouble I’d invited the last time I’d let my blood fall, I sucked it away and nodded to Solus who was watching the proceedings impassively. He nodded to the troll.

  I cleared my throat. “I’ll…uh…need sheathes as well, if you have them.”

  The troll blinked in acknowledgement and scurried away, tray in hand. He returned a few moments later with some leather straps. I selected two at random and began to try to attach them to my forearms, fumbling with the straps. Solus watched me for a moment then hissed in irritation and reached over and did them up for me, slotting the dirks into place at the same time. I murmured my thanks and practised sheathing and unsheathing the dirks a few times. They were different to what I was used to, but they would work. I rolled down me sleeves to cover them and looked over at Solus who permitted himself a small smile and nodded again to the troll. Then we left.

  Once we were back outside I sucked in fresh air. It was a relief to be away from the shop, even if the air was sodden with city smells instead of the country atmosphere I was used to.

  I waited until we were back onto the main thoroughfare before I spoke. “Solus, you didn’t pay the troll.”

  “Mmm,” he answered noncommittally.

  “And he called you ‘my lord’.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Solus, is there something I should know?”

  He paused for a moment and looked at me, then continued walking. “No, dragonlette, there isn’t.”

  “I will pay you back when I get some money.”

  He laughed sharply. “At the rate you’re going, if you live long enough to make even a fraction of the money those knives cost, then I’ll be impressed.”

  “I do appreciate your help, you know. You don’t have to be this nice.”

  “I don’t want to be responsible for a sleeping pensioner for the rest of eternity, Mack. I’m a Fae, remember? This is entirely self-serving.”

  I didn’t believe that anymore, not really, but I chose not to challenge him. “Thank you, Solus,” I said quietly.

  He remained silent for a few heartbeats and then answered back gruffly. “You’re welcome, dragonlette. Just don’t do anything to get yourself killed before all this is resolved.”

  I punched him in the arm and he drew back with a pained hiss. “What the fuck was that for?”

  “My name is Mack.”

  He snorted with laughter. “Yeah, okay.”

  We walked for several minutes in a companionable silence. I’d never really spent any time in a big city like London before, at least not that I could remember anyway, and I was struck by how much more space and greenery there was than I thought there’d be. Yes, the air wasn’t as fresh as in Inverness or Cornwall, but considering the millions of people crammed into the area, neither was it as chokingly bad as I’d considered. It didn’t mean that I would be in a rush to move here, mind, but I could cope with it. There were people of every shape and every colour and, I had to admit, the diversity was refreshing. There were also more ‘people’ associated with the Otherworld than I’d expected. At one point, my attention taken by a colourful hoarding proclaiming that ‘There is no God so get on with your life and enjoy it’, I banged straight into a cloaked woman from whom I got such a buzz of power that I almost leapt right off the pavement. She growled at me in a language that I vaguely registered as some kind of Old French before heading back off in the opposite direction. Solus wisely managed to keep his tongue to himself but I could sense him trying very hard not to pass comment.

  He finally stopped at the side of a road that was decorated with some very fancy graffiti. I was admiring the artwork, and wondering just how much skill was needed to produce such intricate designs, when he pointed out the cleverly hidden runes behind the various tags. I suddenly felt a bit queasy. Up until this point, at least since leaving the troll’s shop anyway, I’d allowed myself to be distracted by the sights and sounds of the big city. Now it was clear that my real business was about to begin.

  “I can’t go any further, Mack.”

  I appreciated that he’d bothered to use my real name. I nodded my head.

  He pointed down the street ahead of us. “You need to walk about half a mile down that way. The Ministry will be on your left. It’s a big ugly grey building with a sign outside called Charters College.”

  “I understand. And,” I hesitated for a moment, “I really do want to thank you for all you’ve done. If I don’t make it back, will you look after Mrs Alcoon for me? I know it’s a lot to ask, but she’s really a lovely person. Maybe some of your faerie friends will be able to sort her out, you know? Bring her out of stasis?”

  “I’ll do whatever I can. It’s good you’re not hiding any more but I need you to promise me that you’ll be careful.”

  “Sure,” I said, winking at him. “Those big scary witches and wizards won’t know what’s hit them though.”

  He took both my hands. “I mean it, Mackenzie. Their wards are too strong. If you get into trouble once you’re inside the Ministry then I can’t help you out. And I’ve grown to like you. Well, tolerate you, anyway.”

  “Gee, you certainly know how to make a girl feel good about herself, don’t ya?”

  “Promise me.”

  I was a bit taken aback by the serious tone in his voice. “I promise, Solus.”

 
; He leaned forward until our foreheads were touching and closed his eyes, then turned round and walked back the way we’d come, not looking back. I watched him disappear into the crowds.

  “Well, that was weird,” I muttered to myself.

  I ran my tongue around the inside of my mouth and realised that I hadn’t managed to get hold of a toothbrush and toothpaste before he’d left. I didn’t have any money to buy them either. Using the corner of my sleeve, I rubbed my teeth, but it did little good. At least I could try breathing on the mages and knocking them out that way, I figured, giving up and continuing forward. I shifted my backpack on my shoulders as I walked, double-checking the shiny new silver daggers strapped to my forearms at the same time. I took in a big gulp of air and pictured Mrs Alcoon lying motionless in her chair in the now burnt out shell of Cava Books. No matter what happened as I was going to make sure that they freed her. I was not going to have yet another body on my conscience.

  Barely five minutes later, I was standing in front of the Ministry. The sign reading Charter College that hid the Ministry in plain sight was dull and unassuming. The building itself, whilst imposing, would hardly encourage visitors to drop by. There was an iron fence circling the property, which didn’t look particularly difficult to scale. That was probably to avoid appearing to be too much of a challenge to any local youths looking for a dare I guessed though. I had no doubt that if I went straight up and climbed over it there would be all sorts of magical alarms suddenly being set off. I decided also that I couldn’t very well just stroll up to the front door and knock. They’d probably fry me first and ask questions later. I’d have to get myself inside and find someone important to speak to. A pre-emptive strike. I could always phone Alex again and ask him for tips but his involvement would probably only complicate matters. Keep it simple stupid, I told myself.

  Looking around, I noted an old abandoned house in a row of terraced properties behind me. It offered a clear and unhampered view of the ‘College’. I decided that my best possible move would be to keep the place under surveillance for a time so I could work out how best to enter. Very Cagney and Lacey. I frowned for a moment, realising that there was only one of me now that Solus had vamoosed back into whichever Faerie plane he’d come from. Cagney and Lacey wouldn’t work. Inspector Morse? No, he had Lewis by his side. Horatio Caine? Nope, no hard-working CSI team to back me up. Ummm, I thought hard. Every sodding police detective I could think of had at least one side-kick with them. Eventually I shrugged and gave up. I was a lone wolf. Or at least a lone dragon anyway. We liked to work alone. Others would merely cramp our style. Or steal our treasure. I nodded to myself sagely and wandered round to the back of the house, yanking off some of the nailed on wooden boards that were barring the downstairs window.

  I hopped up and crawled through the space that I’d made, snagging my t-shirt and ripping it slightly. I swore out loud and pulled myself through. The interior of the house was better kept than I’d expected. There was no furniture and everything was covered in a layer of thick dust, but the place appeared untouched by squatters or druggies looking for their own holes to crawl into. Satisfied, I strode through to the front and peered out through a crack. I had a perfect view of the Ministry’s front door.

  “Phase 1 complete,” I said aloud, my voice echoing in the quiet house. I was prepared to stake out the mages.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A half hour later I was desperately wishing that I were somewhere else. The lack of any furniture in the house meant that I had to remain standing to see through the window. The positioning of the window meant that I had to stoop to see through it. I tried kneeling but I was too short then to peer through the crack. The upshot was that my lower back was now absolutely killing me and I wasn’t convinced that I’d in fact ever be able to stand up straight again. I rubbed my spine with both hands but it was a pointless effort. I sighed deeply and wiped my hand across my forehead. It might be winter but the little house was entirely airless and I was starting to sweat profusely. Stakeouts looked a lot more fun on television.

  I reached down and touched my toes, attempting to stretch out my back. When I moved back up and looked through the crack again, absolutely nothing had changed. No-one had come in and no-one had come out. I straightened up for a few moments, wincing at the creaking pain. Fucking hell. I walked around the room a few times and then resumed my stance at the window. There had to be an easier way to do this. I stared out at the railings surrounding the Ministry. Maybe they weren’t really warded all that much. I could just climb over them and drop into the garden, then…get zapped.

  I took a deep breath. I could do this.

  Why are you in London?

  I shrieked aloud at the sudden mental intrusion, jerking my head upwards and banging it off one of the wooden boards barring the window frame that was jutting out ever so slightly.

  “Goddamnit!” I swore aloud.

  Kitten? I know you can hear me.

  Perhaps if I just stayed very, very silent he’d think I wasn’t really there. If I ever saw Tom again, he and I would be having some serious words together.

  Don’t be upset at your little wolf friend. He had a bruise on his neck. I compelled him to tell me who had given it to him.

  Don’t respond, Mack, I said to myself. Just don’t say or think anything.

  I’m disappointed that you didn’t come over and say hello. Or introduce me to your new… friend.

  I snapped. Really, my Lord? Are you really going to continue to imply that I spend all my spare time shagging every male I can get my hands on?

  Hello kitten.

  His Voice that time was virtually a purr.

  Get lost, Corrigan.

  You don’t need to stay out there in the cold, you know. Tell me where you are and I can help you out. It’s not too late to still be one of us.

  The metal gates that formed part of the fence to the Ministry were starting to open. They must be remote controlled. I concentrated my attention on them.

  You should stop this stalker like behaviour. It’s most unbecoming for the Lord Alpha. Surely you’ve got better things to do.

  There. I could be calm and reasonable. A garage door that I’d not noticed before because it was camouflaged by some trees began to wrench upwards.

  I concern myself with every member of the Pack.

  Well, I’m not part of the Pack, my Lord. Get over it.

  Mackenzie, it’s not safe here. You need to…

  Corrigan’s Voice was cut off abruptly. Whatever. And he was damn right that it wasn’t safe here, but if he thought that I was going to slink off with my proverbial tail between my legs then he had something else coming.

  A shiny black Mercedes van bounced out of the garage and headed towards the now fully open gates. My heart was thudding. I told myself that I was just excited because there was finally some action. At the Ministry, not with Corrigan. Nooooo, definitely not with Corrigan.

  The van’s windows were darkened so I couldn’t actually see who or what was inside. It didn’t matter though. Now I knew that part of the Ministry’s security relied on technology – and technology often failed. They might have magic on their side but I was fairly certain that if I could cut the power to their security system, they’d go into panic mode for long enough to allow me to slip in. If they relied on remote control to operate their doors and gates, then they weren’t relying on magic to stop people from entering. Sure, I’d trip the wards and set off their warning systems, but they’d work out I was there soon enough anyway. All I actually needed to was to get inside and find someone powerful enough to plead my case to before I got caught. And now at least I had an idea about how to get inside.

  I sank back on my heels and allowed myself a moment to wonder about Corrigan. I didn’t know why he felt the need to keep on bothering me. Surely it couldn’t be because he was that bothered about one little rogue? He’d certainly never given a damn about any of the shifters in Cornwall before John had died so what was dif
ferent now?

  I tightened my ponytail and forced him out of my thoughts. I couldn’t make him a concern of mine, not right now with everything else going on. If I managed to sort out the mages and get them to release Mrs Alcoon then maybe I’d try to talk to him and get him to leave me alone. If he was going to keep chasing, then maybe I really couldn’t keep hiding, as Solus so charmingly put it. But right now I had other things to worry about.

  I glanced around the room and looked for the least dusty spot. I couldn’t move any further now until it was dark, so I may as well make the most of my time and sleep. Scuffing away some of dustballs from one corner, I lay down and curled up in a ball, closing my eyes. Initially my thoughts kept tripping over one another, ticking away till I felt more awake than I really would have thought possible. Remembering an old breathing trick that John had taught me back when he was first training me in martial arts, however, I managed to calm myself down and empty my mind. Eventually I drifted asleep.

  When I awoke, I was briefly disorientated and unsure where I was. It was so dark that for a moment I thought I was back in the halfway plane after entering the Clava Cairns portal. Then I realised that I was in the middle of London and about to storm the Ministry of Mages to save a little old lady from being stuck in a coma for the rest of her life. I stood up slowly, still feeling a nagging ache in the small of my back from my minor attempt at a stake out earlier on in the day. I stretched out, pushing first against the wall and lengthening out my hamstrings, then performing a few yoga poses on the floor.

  I dusted off my clothes, then sniffed them unhappily. There was still the remaining odour of eau de bonfire, whether from the Winter Solstice campfires or the blaze at Clava Books, I wasn’t completely sure. Now there was the added reek of stale dust. I cupped my hand round my mouth and breathed into it and then tried to sniff my breath. Nope, that wasn’t very pleasant either. Oh well, there was little I could do about either right now.

  I headed to the back of the house and eyed the window that I’d clambered through earlier. Somehow the gap seemed smaller than it had previously. I pushed my head through the hole and wiggled myself out, managing to catch myself on exactly the same nail that I had on the way in. This time, instead of just ripping my clothes though, it scratched its way across my skin. I tried to remember if I’d had a tetanus booster recently. In fact I tried to remember if I’d ever had a tetanus shot in the past. Lockjaw wasn’t a disease that shifters had ever tended to worry about. Perhaps I’d go see a doctor if I ever got myself out of the Ministry alive.